


Good Girl

by sometimessmiley



Category: Firefly
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Self Harm, super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimessmiley/pseuds/sometimessmiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal has to watch River while Simon works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned for a friend.

They’d be docked on Redkip for another day and a half, per Inarah’s request. Mal sat, a crate of old carrots on the floor between his ankles. He picked the least rotted ones, let them roll on the table, enough for that night’s stew. He was about to chop them, when Simon came in with River.

“Jayne got himself shot in some tavern brawl.” Simon pressed his lips tight. “I need you to watch River.” Ever since she’d stolen Zoe’s pistol and shot the wall trying to take it apart, Simon refused to let her wander, treated her like a toddler. His shiny shoes grated against the floor when he left.

From a cupboard, Mal yanked another crate, this one full of dirty potatoes. “Pick ten.” River crossed her legs in front of the crate while Mal chopped the carrots. Every potato she plucked got thoroughly examined. Dirt smeared the tip of her nose, she peered so close, took count of every eye and dent. When Mal stood, the crate was empty, River surrounded by an army of potatoes.       

“What the ai ya tian a are you doing?”

River craned her neck straight back so she could look at Mal’s face. “I need to gather all the data before I can know which ones are best.”

At the counter, Mal pulled a wooden bowl from the cupboard with the squeaky hinge. The broth on the stove let out lazy bubbles, almost hot enough. Through the vent beside the coolers, Kaylee’s voice echoed, cooed soft encouragement to Serenity’s engine, her good girl always one or two mistakes from falling apart. Mal looked back at the mess. “They all rot the same. Just pick.” River pouted, threw the potatoes into the crate, so hard they bounced when they hit the wood. “Hey, careful there. Just because they’re already gou shi, doesn’t mean you gotta go and make it worse.” River scooped up the remaining ten and dumped them on the table, grabbed the wide chopping knife. Mal reached for it. “I think I should do that.”

“Let me.” River didn’t look up when she spoke, studied the knife for a moment, then sliced the potatoes, fast and accurate, didn’t even gouge the table. Maybe she did know what she was doing. Hard to tell, with River. Mal still couldn’t discern whether she was more method or more madness.

River slid the potato chunks into a pouch she’d made with the front of her dress, went to dump them in the broth pot. Mal looked down to brush potato dirt from the table. When he looked up, the chunks were in the pot, and River’s hand was pressed against the red stove coil. “River!” Mal shot across the kitchen, tore River’s hand from the element. “What the ta ma de are you doing?” Only then did River seem to register the pain. She screamed. Mal wrenched the cold water tap, shoved her hand under it. Kaylee cooed through the vent.


End file.
